


In the event of an emergency

by slightly_ajar



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Team as Family, Whump, discussions of cannon minor character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-03-27
Packaged: 2019-04-13 18:04:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14117937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightly_ajar/pseuds/slightly_ajar
Summary: When Mac realised that Bozer was looking at him he stopped pounding on the glass and laid both his palms flat against it looking like he was wanted to claw his way through it with using just his fear and determination.   He took in Bozer’s injuries and stillness with a glance then locked eyes with him and spoke, slowly and carefully annunciating each word.“I’ll.  Get.  You.  Out”.A rescue mission becomes very personal for the team when an accident in the lab puts Bozer in jeopardy.





	In the event of an emergency

**Author's Note:**

> There are lots of stories about Mac and Jack’s bromance, which is only right because it’s great to watch, good to read and fun to write, but Bozer is Mac’s oldest friend and I thought it might be nice to spend some time looking at their relationship. With Mac fixing stuff of course.
> 
> This is set sometime after War Room and Ship kind of ish. I didn't write it with a specific episode in mind and I started it before I saw Bullet and Pen so I suppose it goes around about there somewhere *gestures vaguely*
> 
> This is unbetaed I apologise for any spelling mistakes or random words, please let me know if you see one and I’ll fix it.
> 
> I’m in the UK and we’re a few episodes behind the US so if Jack has taken to wearing a pink trilby and I haven’t mentioned it it’s because I haven’t seen it yet. That would be something to look forward to though x

When Bozer opened his eyes he discovered that he was lying on the floor. 

Which was weird. 

He hadn’t been on the floor a minute ago. He’d been painting highlights on a mask and waiting for Riley to text him back about the Marvel movie marathon they were planning. He’d asked her for her choice of snacks and her movie preference, and was expecting her to suggest salted popcorn and Wonder Woman. He knew better than to point out that Wonder Woman was a DC character after the withering glare and terse “I know” he’d received last time he’d corrected her. He predicted her argument in favour of the movie would be a) it was awesome and b) they needed representation for the ladies and since there wasn’t a Black Widow movie yet. Both valid points that Bozer didn’t disagree with. 

He had been sitting at the table when that was happening but now, here he was, on the floor. Definitely weird. 

His arm, dressed in a white lab coat, was stretched out in front of him and there was blood on the back of his hand. 

And that was more than just weird. That was not good. 

He tried to move, slightly shifting his position on the floor. It hurt. 

A small seed of panic started to bloom in the back of his brain. Awareness branched out though his limbs, a creeping understanding that he was sprawled on the floor, that even though his brain was commanding his muscles to move they wouldn’t and that he could see blood out of the corner of his eye. A pool of blood beside his head. That was growing. 

Frozen with shock and confusion, Bozer turned his gaze back to his arm and saw that his sleeve was turning red at the cuff from the blood seeping from his hand. The stain was inching upwards and he found himself wondering if Matty would be mad about the dry cleaning bill. 

He blinked, trying to focus his vision and sluggish brain and looked out to the rest of the lab. 

To where the rest of the lab used to be. 

It had been devastated. 

Everything, tables, computers, experiments, had been picked up, turned upside-down, shattered then throw across the room. Everything including him apparently. Broken glass covered the floor, jagged edges of broken furniture jutted out dangerously, and the wall that divided the two labs on that level wasn’t there anymore. 

There was a hole where a white wall used to be. A grey edged mess of wood and plaster stood in its place. Dark smoke was billowing through it into Bozer’s lab and had covered the space above him so that he can no longer see the ceiling. Fumes the filled the air and the smells of chemicals and burning tasted acrid on Bozer’s tongue. 

What the hell had happened? Why hadn’t the sprinklers come on? And why couldn’t he hear the emergency sirens that must have been sounding? 

Outside the lab yellow warning light were flashing and Bozer knew a head splittingly loud siren would be roaring too. The only noise he was aware of was a swooshing pulse in his ears that sounded like he was underneath the ocean. _It’s probably a result of the blast, hopefully its temporary_ a memory from his first aid training helpfully told him. That one thought triggered others. A quick succession of words and realisations that filled his head. 

Blast. Explosion. Bomb. Smoke. Fire. Glass. Sharp. Blood. Hurt. Pain. Broken. Danger. Danger. Escape. Out. Move. Go. Go. Go. Go! 

He wanted to move. He tried. His body was heavy and unresponsive and he felt detached from himself, as if his mind had stepped away from his body and only had a tenuous connection to his physical presence rather than inhabiting it. He wondered if he was grateful for that. Being thrown across a room must hurt and if his brain was fully connected and communicating with his limbs he was sure he would be in pain. He didn’t feel a lot of pain, he was aware it was there somewhere in his consciousness but he felt like he has cushioned from it. So, yes, grateful. Probably. 

A movement caught his attention, something blue moving over where the door to the lab used to be. Something blue was shifting and swaying and…Bozer blinked then stared hard. 

Mac. It was Mac. Mac in a blue shirt. Mac in a blue shirt pushing and pounding on something that wasn’t there. Fighting to get into the room but not moving forward and... Ah. The emergency containment barrier. In the event of an emergency a barrier made of specially reinforced glass came down and sealed the room off from the rest of the building. It was designed to contain chemicals, fires, viruses and all the other weird and wonderful things that might get cooked up in a Phoenix lab. It was designed to not open until the danger in the room had been neutralised, which would have been great except that Bozer was still in the lab, stunned and bleeding, and smoke was filling the room. 

Now Bozer knew Mac was there he could see him clearly. He was beating his fist on the barrier again, yelling something that Bozer couldn’t hear. When he realised that Bozer was looking at him he stopped pounding on the glass and laid both his palms flat against it looking like he was wanted to claw his way through it with using just his fear and determination. He took in Bozer’s injuries and stillness with a glance then locked eyes with him and spoke, slowly and carefully annunciating each word. 

“I’ll. Get. You. Out”. 

Mac backed away with his eyes flicking over the barrier, examined and deconstructed it in his mind as he moved. Bozer could see him considering possible solutions, rejecting them, looking for alternative answers, and eliminating those. When his back hit the wall behind him he pushed both hands over his scalp and clutched the hair at the back of his head. His focused expression falling away leaving a look of uncertainty and dread behind. 

Mac’s feelings had always been clear to see in his expressions. After all their years as friends Bozer knew how happiness, guilt, sorrow, regret, hope and fury were worn on his features. He knew when Mac was thinking about a way to fix a problem, when he had realised how to solve the problem and when he had come up with a way to fix the new problem that the first solution had created. 

The smell of smoke was stronger and Bozer’s eyes were starting to sting. His body and brain felt leaden, liquefied and thick like his blood on the floor. At the other side of the barrier Mac had his Swish Army knife out and was using it to wrench a panel away from the wall with quick, violent jerks. 

Mac should never have been able to convincingly lie to Bozer about his job for all those years with such an honest face. He should have been a terrible spy. But he had managed to turn his sincerity into a convincing mask that covered his truths. It was probably something that he had started to learn at a very young age. Bozer didn’t remember taking that class in spy school. He took very different lessons away from his own training camp experience. 

  


He had laid in bed staring up at his dark bedroom the night after the interrogation exercise. His eyes had been gritty with fatigue but they wouldn’t stay closed and no position in the bed was comfortable for long. It was like he was pulsing with an adrenalin rush that hadn’t entirely faded, his limbs twitchy and his mind restless. He’d stared at his phone for a long time worrying about the late hour but decided to call Mac anyway. He’d apologise later and Mac would understand. 

“Boze? What’s happening, are you okay?” Mac’s voice was rough and slurred with sleep. 

“Yeah…no…but not, like…umm…” Bozer blinked up at the darkened ceiling above him then forced the sentence out, “I did the interrogation task today.” 

“Oh?” A question. Then, “Oh.” With understanding. “How was it?” 

“It was…I don’t know if a word actually exists that describes how it was.” 

“Rough?” 

“That’s a good start.” 

“What did…” a silence as Mac tried to phrase his question, “what did they use?” 

“Joshua. His birthday party. All of it.” Bozer felt a hot tear sting one eye, roll down his cheeks and drip onto his pillow. It had been so long since he had talked about his brother it was like saying the words out loud made it all real again. Making the trauma of that day fresh. His mom’s screams, the blood, the still body of his brother, all right in front of him. 

“Aw, Bozer,” Mac said around a sigh, “I’m sorry, man. Are you okay?” 

“Right now? No.” Bozer turned onto his side and rested the hand that was holding his phone on the pillow. “In a couple of days? I don’t know, probably.” 

“I didn’t think, it didn’t occur to me that they might do that. I’m really sorry.” 

“You wouldn’t have been able to tell me anyway. Wouldn’t it break the Espionage Act or something?” 

“Only a little.” 

“If...Joshua would be getting ready to leave college, if it hadn’t happened. He was smart I know he would have gone. After he left he could have moved here to LA and stayed with us, we could have been like the three amigos.” 

“That would have been amazing.” Mac said. 

“My parents would have been so proud. I know they wanted us both to graduate from college but it was never my thing. He should have been the smart one while I got to be the creative one.” It was easier, Bozer found, to be honest about this in a dark room to a friend who was miles away. “Sometimes I feel like I’m carrying their expectations for both of us and it’s too much. One college degree will never be enough because there aren’t two. I can be happy and successful but there’s still just my success when there should be twice as much.” 

“Your parents are proud of you, Bozer.” Mac’s voice was soft and certain in his ear. “I know they are.” 

“I sometimes think they’re prouder of you than they are of me. I don’t think my mom has ever gotten over you dropping out of MIT.” 

“She still asks me when I’m going back,” Mac said affectionately, “Your parents don’t think that you are not enough, Boze. I’ve watched your family, your parents miss Joshua but they don’t want you to make up for his loss. They don’t want you to be different or to be more than you already are.” He paused, then added, carefully, “You never talk about him. This is the first time in years I’ve heard you mention Joshua’s name.” 

“It’s just that,” Bozer closed his eyes as he searched for the words to describe how he felt. “People ask questions, then you have to explain, then they look uncomfortable because they’ve brought up painful memory and they don’t know what to say to you. You know what it’s like.” 

“Yeah. Yeah I do.” 

Bozer heard a car drive past the apartment he was staying in and watched the headlights track across his room. 

“What did they ask you, when you were here? Did they ask you about your dad?” 

“Yes,” Mac answered quietly, “and Harry.” 

“That must have been tough.” 

“It …it wasn’t a good day.” 

“Mac,” Bozer didn’t realise that he was going to ask Mac the question until he heard himself speaking. “Is Joshua the reason you don’t like guns? I’ve always assumed, but…is he?” 

Bozer heard the shift of Mac’s duvet and the creak of his mattress as he changed position. “He was a little kid playing at a birthday party who picked up something that he didn’t know wasn’t safe for him to touch. Anyone can pull a trigger, innocent people, children. So, yeah, Boze, he was the first, the main, reason that I think that there should always be a better way.” 

“I almost left today. Had my bags packed and my coat on and everything. I didn’t want a part of any organisation that could do a thing like that.” He’d been so angry and so hurt that all he wanted was to be as far away as possible. 

“But you didn’t?” 

“I decided that it was better to finish what I started.” Bozer had decided to tell Mac about Leanna in person. Later, when he knew what it was he was going to tell, he wasn’t sure what was going to happen between them. He still had hopes, despite everything. 

“I’m glad you decided to stay. If you got through today then you can get through anything.” 

“And I figured that if you, Jack and Riley do all this spy stuff it can’t be all bad. You wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t worth it.” 

“Yeah, it is, it’s worth it. Plus” Mac let out a tiny huff of breath and tentatively changed his voice from gentle and honest to the tone they used with each other when they were sat in traffic or watching old sci fi movies together, “you know, we sometimes get to ride in private jets, drive super cars and go to high end parties with the beautiful people. Jack insists he once walked past Vin Diesel at a gallery opening.” 

Bozer decided to accept the offered comfort of their usual rapport. “Vin Diesel? At a gallery opening?” 

“Jack swears it was him. He was standing in the Surrealist section, apparently.” 

“Maybe it was research for his next movie, XXX 3, Xander Harris meets Jackson Pollock and it gets messy.” Bozer heard Mac chuckle. “Are there any super cool, super classified missions that you haven’t told me about yet? Have you ever had a mission in space?” 

“Not yet. But I’m still hoping for one. I think Jack asked Matty for one every few months.” 

They both laughed. Then fell silent, neither needing to fill the air with words. Bozer felt a burst of homesickness in that quiet, still moment. Aching for the presence of his friends, the house he and Mac shared, the familiarity of a motorbike in his front room and people how understood his Star Wars references. 

“Mac, I’ve been gone for a couple of days, so I should probably ask: is our house still in one piece?” 

“Yes,” Mac sounded insulted, “I haven’t taken anything apart. Well, except for that smoothie maker but that wasn’t working anyway.” 

“Do we have a smoothie maker?” Bozer did a regular inventory of their appliances for just this reason. Living with Mac was could be tough on a person’s kitchen equipment. 

“No, we still don’t, I needed the motor. Do you want a smoothie maker? I could build one.” 

“No, no I’m fine, thank you.” 

“Boze,” Mac asked, “do you think you’ll be able to sleep now.” And of course Mac understood, that was why Bozer had chosen to call him in the first place. 

“Yes, I think so. Thanks. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight.” 

  


Bozer must have zoned out because he found he was suddenly awake again. In front of him, beyond the barrier, he could see Mac, Jack, and Riley. They were all staring, eyed wide and horrified at the back of the room beyond him. Something behind him must have collapsed and the vibration of the impact had jolted him awake. His friends exchanged quick worried look then Jack spoke and pointed to the wall panel that Mac had pried off. Mac must have been busy while Bozer was unconscious because he could see a hole in the wall where the panel used to be and wires hanging out of the gap. One of the leads trailed to the floor where it was plugged into Riley’s lap top. She sat in front of it, hunched forwards and typing faster than Bozer had ever seen. Mac reached his arm into the wall as far as it could go and pulled on something, hard. 

Smoke filled the room now, Bozer could feel heat on his back and he was staring to wish that he was still knocked out. He still couldn’t hear anything other than the beat of the tide in his ears, his limbs were still being uncooperative and there was so much blood. He didn’t think he wanted to be awake for all this, and much as their presence was comforting, he didn’t think he wanted his friends to have to watch what was happening either. 

A man dressed in official looking rescue gear walked into the corridor in front of Bozer and headed straight for Mac. He was talking and gesturing animatedly into the lab. When he reached Mac he scowled aghast at the hole in the wall and the wires cascading from it, then he took hold of Mac’s arm and tried to pull him away from the panel. Mac turned, shouting, his face furious, slapped the hand off his shoulder and pushed its owner away then pointed at Bozer. The other man drew himself up and squared his shoulder, clearly ready to assert his authority when Jack intervened. He shouldered himself between them, putting himself in front of the man and leaned forward into his personal space forcing him to step back. Mac immediately turned back to the electronics he was rewiring. 

With his arms held wide as if in appeal Jack shepherded the man and his rescue protocols away from Mac and out into the corridor he’d come from. Bozer could see that Jack was speaking, probably explaining that it was all fine, they were taking care of everything, that his friend over there had it all under control and they’d take full responsibility if the building collapsed and crushed them all to death. 

There had been a time when Bozer had considered being jealous of Jack. Bozer was Mac’s best friend, he had been since they were both children. Then Jack appeared calling himself Mac best buddy after only knowing him for a few years, just because they’d been in the army together and shared some kind of tough guy, combat bond or something. Just because Jack saw himself as Mac’s bodyguard. Bozer was the one who had supported Mac for years, he’d been there when his grandfather died, he was the one who knew to stop him from becoming too caught up inside his own head, and he was the only reason Mac ate decent meals. He’d shared his pastrami recipe with Mac for goodness sake! 

He could have grown resentful but he had quickly realised that Jack loved Mac, and what kind of friend would he be to begrudge Mac that? Jack was a genuinely good person, right through to his core. One who Bozer enjoyed having around, terrible T shirts and karaoke aside, one he had grown to love too. 

Bozer also found that he could split a burden with Jack. He worried about Mac when he was in the army. He’d worried every day, about the bombs Mac found, the bombs he didn’t find in time, the bullets aimed at him and the bullets that weren’t aimed at all but found a mark anyway. Bozer worried when Mac came home too, about what he’d witnessed, about the things he couldn’t share with anyone and about the things he might want to share but only could with people who had gone through the same experiences. He knew that he couldn’t help Mac with that but Jack was able to. Jack literally shielded Mac from things that were intended to do him harm. When Bozer understood all this it was like the weight of worry he carried for his friend was shared across another set of shoulders. 

Bozer’s vision was almost entirely obscured by smoke but he could just make out his friends. Mac cut a red wire with his knife, he held the frayed edge to the end of a blue wire and a spark lit up that burned bright against Bozer’s sore eyes. Riley hit a key on her laptop. Jack shouted something that looked like, “Come on!” 

And then water poured down onto Bozer as the sprinklers came on. He was drenched in moments, it was cold but soothing, the cool press of his wet clothes reminding him that he was there, inside his body, achingly real, not drifting away in dirty haze of smoke. 

He saw the barrier start to lift and Mac duck under it and run towards him, followed by Riley and Jack, their footsteps splashing through the gathering water. Mac dropped to his knees beside Bozer and began checking him for injuries, his touch methodical but urgent, his mouth moving with reassurances that Bozer couldn’t hear. He could see Riley’s legs from where she’d sat above him and feel her hands on his forehead and Jack was talking into a walkie talkie, presumably demanding paramedics. 

Bozer felt safe. 

  


“I’m Captain America.” Jack’s voice. 

“How did you work that out?” Riley sounded sceptical. 

“He’s an American soldier, I am an American soldier. Or I was. The math is simple.” 

“I don’t think Captain America would have joined the CIA.” 

“She has a point there,” Mac’s voice now, “He’s not exactly a covert operative.” 

“Okay, you are both going to be wrong but why don’t you amuse me by explaining who is Captain America then?” 

“Mac.” 

“Mac!” Jack sounded outraged. “The first problem with your logic, Riley, is Mac wouldn’t be transformed using a special super formula, he would be the one making the formula, problem number two is that Mac is Iron Man.” 

“I could be Iron Man!” Riley sounded affronted “I know computers and I’m good with tech.” 

“You’re Wonder Woman. And Iron Man is a man, the clue is kind of in the name.” 

“Wonder Woman is a DC character, Jack, and Iron Man has a suit that anyone can put, regardless of their gender. Pepper put it on in Iron Man 3” 

Mac spoke up again. “I’m happy to be Captain America. I was in the army.” 

“Shut up, you are not helping.” 

When Bozer opened his eyes he was lying on a bed. 

Which was good. 

His arm was stretch out in front of him was dressed in a hospital gown and his hand was wrapped in a clean, white bandage which wasn’t ideal but was way better than the alternative. He could see Mac in front of him, sitting in a chair looking tired but smiling as he watched Jack and Riley bicker. 

“Okay,” Jack sounded like he was trying to call the room to order. “Mac is Captain America, Riley is Wonder Woman dressed in Iron Man’s suit or something, so who am I?” 

“Thor.” Bozer said, his voice gruff but clear. 

“Bozer?” Mac stood and was quickly joined at Bozer’s bedside by Jack and Riley. All of them smiling and looking relieved. “Are you okay? How do you feel?” 

Settling onto his back Bozer did a quick assessment of his body. “My head hurts and my hearing is a little fuzzy but other than that I feel like I was thrown across a room. I was thrown across a room wasn’t I?” 

“Something like that,” Jack answered. “One compound was put a little too close to another compound and boom. I had a relationship like that once. It was fun while it lasted but messy.” 

“Matty is reviewing containment and storage policies.” Mac said, “It shouldn’t happen again.” 

“Is everyone okay?” Bozer remembered being the only one in the lab but there could have been others close by. 

“Yeah, the only person caught up in it was you.” Mac put a hand on Bozer’s arm, squeezing gently. “You scared me, man, don’t do anything like that again.” 

“I’ll review my to do list.” 

“You make sure you do that, it’s bad enough having to worry about that one,” Jack jerked a thumb in Mac’s direction, “without having to watch out for your geeky ass too.” 

“Jack, I’ll do my best,” 

“I appreciate it, Bozer.” He held his arms open, “I’d hug you but a Jack Dalton hug is nothing to be tangled with and you still look a bit bruised and fragile right now.” 

“Thanks, that’s considerate. Another time.” 

“You know,” Riley smiled and raised her eyebrows, “You’ve just been caught up in an accident in a laboratory and exposed to dangerous chemicals. You might be The Hulk now. Are you angry?” she peered at him, “don’t get angry.” 

“That’s right!” Jack grinned, looking thrilled, “Bozer’s The Hulk, that works! But,” he frowned at Bozer, “Hang on, why am I Thor?” 

“He’s the Mighty God of Thunder.” Bozer reasoned. He was tired and sore but he felt warm and safe. They were all together, joking and teasing, looking out for one another, this was normal and good. Mac sat back down in his chair with Jack taking another opposite him while Riley perched on the end of his bed, “He has a hammer that only the worthy can wield that he uses to fly and smash things. What wouldn’t you want that?” 

“Oh yeah,” Jack nodded, “The Mighty God of Thunder, I’ll take that.” 

“But I don’t think I’m The Hulk though,” Bozer smirked, “I’m good with tech, I’m in a lab more than the rest of you and I’m the one who built a robot. Surely I should be Iron Man.” 

Jack sighed. 

**Author's Note:**

> I agree with Riley. I think it’s completely acceptable to watch Wonder Woman during a Marvel Movie Marathon for the reasons she states. In fact I would watch Wonder Woman during any movie marathon at any time because I love it. I’d have salted popcorn too, and chocolate, and Haribo :)


End file.
